


Soaring and Falling

by lady_wordsmith



Series: Memories (Bucky/Reader) [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky has no idea what's going on, Bucky is Heartbroken, Cliffhangers, F/M, Jealousy, Memory Loss, Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Romance, You are clueless, You just want a new roommate, and also jealous, and have no idea what's going on, something is very wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_wordsmith/pseuds/lady_wordsmith
Summary: You tell Kai's wife about your new roommate moving in, and she's convinced the homeless-looking guy named James is going to murder you in your sleep.Meanwhile, Bucky wonders why you're acting like he's a stranger to you. Is it your preservation instincts kicking in, or something far darker?





	

“Kai told me he doesn’t know what you were thinking. He said the guy looked homeless and wore gloves. It’s not even that cold out.”

“Annie, darling? Tell your husband I said to fuck off.”

“So what _were_ you thinking?”

“Promise not to laugh? Or tell Kai?”

“I promise nothing.”

“Don’t tell Kai, at least?”

“…Fine, Punch. Hit me.”

“Oh, ha _ha_. Listen, if you’re not going to be serious-“

“Just _tell_ me.”

“There was just something about him, Annie. Something… familiar, I guess? Something familiar and safe.”

* * *

After your first ad bore little fruit and your roommate had moved out, you renewed the ad and Kai insisted on being there when you brought prospective new roommates to tour the place.  


“You’re a woman alone, Punch.” He had said, not even realizing his word choice.

Yeah, you were. Sometimes your cousins came over, but more often than not it was you coming to them because they needed your help. Even the occasional family brunch usually took place at one of their homes. You told yourself it was because they had actual houses compared to your relatively small apartment, but still. You knew the score. At least you still talked to them. Your aunts still said hello and made small talk, but ever since you returned from Europe, it was clear something had happened in your familial relationships that would never be repaired.

Not like _that_ was anything new. Your father still drifted in and out of hospitals and jail, from the few snippets of information your cousins had given you. You hadn’t spoken to your father since long before you had left for Europe and you had no plans to ever again. He was nothing to you.

So some small part of you did appreciate Kai’s care, even if you gave him shit for assuming you couldn’t vet people on your own. Besides, it gave you someone to snark with when potential roommates were… less than expected.

You were at your apartment with Kai shooting the shit when your buzzer rang. You were only expecting one person today, a man who said his name was James and he was moving to the area for the foreseeable future and needed a place ASAP. He said he wasn’t a student, but there were limited affordable options in Boston and he was getting desperate.

You figured he must be if he was even coming to Boston. You debated about giving the guy Mr. Henderson’s number since he always had unrented apartments to spare and he generally charged affordable rent, but decided against it because you really needed the money. You shot a few emails back and forth discussing logistics of setting up a time to go through the apartment and discuss rent and all the rest.

You walk over to the buzzer and press the talk button. “Yeah?” you press the listen button and wait.

The man at the other end asks for you and says, “I-It’s James.”

You find yourself smiling as you press the talk button again. “I’ll buzz you up.” With that, you press the door button to allow him in the building.

* * *

“You don’t know the man, Punch. What are you even _doing_?”  


“Look, Annie, it’s _fine_. He can pay the rent and doesn’t seem crazy. Kind of odd, maybe a little skittish and vacant, but he’s not a psycho and he can pay rent.”

“What does he even _do_?”

“I don’t know, nor do I rightly care.”

“That is a horrible attitude, Punch. What if he, like, murders you in your sleep?”

“Then I guess making the rent is _his_ problem, then.”

* * *

Bucky almost has a heart attack when he reaches the apartment and you answer the door. He had almost been certain hearing your voice over the intercom, but it was only when confronted with you at the apartment itself that he almost lost any shred of nerve he had possessed.  


He tells himself that he’s going to _kill_ Sam. Sam, who had handled the email conversation. Sam, who told him just because the first name was similar and you had volunteered you were a psychology student during the exchange of emails, that didn’t mean anything. That it was probably just an eerie coincidence and Bucky was freaking out over nothing.

On second thought, no. He wouldn’t kill Sam. This was the best thing ever. Since kids were obviously off the table with your aversion to having children, maybe he could name a pet after Sam. Not a cat, obviously, because you would want to name all the cats after Hemingway characters, but maybe they could get a bird.

At least that’s how Bucky feels until he sees your polite but distant smile and makes note of the man in the living room.

You smile and introduce yourself, offering a hand to shake. Bucky reaches out with his nonmetal hand; thankful he had worn gloves because he has no idea how he would explain the metal arm to this asshole in your living room. You might not turn Bucky in, but there was no promise your… boyfriend? Husband? ... Would do the same.

You smile again, a little warmer this time, and offer to show Bucky around, which raised multiple eyebrows from Bucky’s point-of-view. Why were you acting like you didn’t know him? Was it because of the man in your living room? Why hadn’t you introduced the guy as well? Were you embarrassed or ashamed that you had moved on? Bucky wouldn’t blame you if you did; he knew that six years was a long time and you probably assumed Bucky was never getting free, but why could you just say _something_ , anything at all to let him know where you stood, some acknowledgement that the two of you were standing in the same space after so many years after all that had happened between the two of you

His eyes are fixed on your collarbone briefly, and something about it agitates him further. He doesn’t even know why as he flicks his eyes back up to yours and accepts your offer of a tour. Something about the sight of your bare neck and collarbone makes him angry, and he wonders if he will ever understand why.

He watches you as you show him the apartment. There’s no ring on your finger, which he supposes is good. But the way your face is… There’s no familiarity at all as you speak to him, in either words or your body language.

“So this is your room, if you decide to stay here.” You tell him, gesturing a hand along the empty space. “You’ll have to bring your own bed and whatnot. I have everything else, so you don’t need to bring living room furniture or kitchen stuff.”

“That’s fine.” Bucky says distantly, his own voice sounding far away to his ears. “I don’t have much.”

“I know the feeling.” And then you smile again, a smile he returns very nervously.

You lead him through the entire apartment, telling him that you prefer he stay out of your room, and it strikes him that the entire time, you have not made any reference to the man in the living room. You haven’t even asked Bucky any questions, and in fact, you act like his agreeing to move in is all but a certainty.

Bucky is conflicted, indeed, as the two of you finally sit in the living room and you begin going over the terms of the lease. Bucky flinches as you show him what his half of the rent will be, but it’s mostly a reflex. Steve has promised to pay Bucky’s rent, but the price is still pretty fucking daunting to a man who is still getting used to the modern world. What he would pay to share lodgings with you would have been a fortune back in the 1940s.

“So I’ll email you a copy of the lease, and you can just look it over and, uh, y’know, sign it, scan it, send it back.” You tell him, and Bucky senses your time together is coming to a close. He still has no answers for why you’re acting the way you are, but something is definitely wrong.

And he _still_ doesn’t know who the fucker on the living room couch is.

Bucky shakes your hand again as you lead him to the door, and once you close the door behind him he makes a mad sprint from the stairs, running all the way down and away from your apartment. It’s only when he’s free and clear of your building that he rummages in his pockets, finds the cell phone Steve insisted on giving him, and makes the call to Steve.

“Tell Wilson he’s a dead man.” Bucky says when Steve answers his call.

“Buck-“

“It was her.” He snaps, and Steve is quiet on the other end of the line. “It was her and she doesn’t remember me at _all_.”

* * *

“Punch, you are one crazy bitch.”  


“This is news? Alert the media!”

“Punch, I’m _serious_. This guy-“

“Is moving in next week.”

“Fuckin’ Christ! Punch, are you _sure_ this is a good idea?”

“Yeah, but according to you and Kai I’ve never had a good idea, so…”

* * *

Your first thought is to wonder if Kai recognized the man you just let tour your apartment. Your second thought is to wonder if you had fallen through some hole in the space-time continuum, because the whole thing was surreal.  


You had just offered to let a wanted assassin share living space with you and pay rent and utilities. At least, you were _pretty_ sure it was James Buchanan Barnes. The build, the hair, the eyes… it all fit. The only thing putting you off from saying it was definitely him was his demeanor. He didn’t _act_ like an assassin. You only assumed that maybe you were right in your earlier thinking that he had been a tool for HYDRA and not a willing participant, but he could also just be a regular guy in need of an apartment who also occasionally shot people in the head with a sniper rifle. Who knew?

Besides, you’d rent out your apartment to a serial killer if it meant you made the rent.

 You turn to Kai as you close the door.

“Well?” you say with a grin.

Kai shakes his head.

“I could tell you my opinion, but it’s clearly a done deal on your end.” He tells you, standing up and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Punch?”

“Yeah?” you ask, instantly on alert.

“You’re crazy.”

“How so?” you say, shrugging Kai’s hands off your shoulders and flopping down on your living room couch. You refuse to make eye contact with Kai.

“Because that guy looked homeless, and you basically just offered him a place to live without asking what he did for a living or, oh yeah, his last name.” Kai reminds you, and you breathe a sigh of relief because Kai has less than _no_ idea how weird things really are.

“I’ll handle it.” You say with a wave of your hand. “Go home, Kai.”

Kai just laughs at you as he leaves, and you hear his laughter all the way down the hall as he walks away.

He’s kind of right. He just doesn’t know how right, you think.

* * *

“You have no goddamn sense, Punch.”  


“Oh, hi, Kai. Can you give Annie the phone back, please?”

“You’re on speaker.”

“ _Joy_.”

“Blow me, Punch.”

“Dude, your wife is right there!”

“You _know_ what I mean, Punch. This is dangerous.”

“More dangerous than living with my psycho father?”

“…”

“That’s what I thought. Look, Kai, Annie… I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I have a good feeling about this, and how often do I have those?”

“Okay, okay. Just… be safe, alright, Punch?”

“You got it.”

* * *

“She doesn’t remember you at all? But… that doesn’t make sense. How?”

“I don’t know. But when I find out, whoever did it is fucking _dead_ , Steve. I swear to God.“

“Bucky, look, just… Just come back to New York, okay? I’ll tell Sam, we’ll figure out a plan… Bucky? Bucky!”

**Author's Note:**

> Ouch. Uh, sorry for the cliffhanger?


End file.
